Exploring Sexuality With TSA Agents: Just Relax
by Rare Ship Shipper
Summary: (Originally published on AO3. Will only be continued there.) Nervous flier Dean Winchester opts out of doing the security scan and is to be pat down by TSA agent Castiel Novak.


To be honest, Dean Winchester was afraid of flying. He hated it with every fiber of his being, but that didn't stop him trying to flirt with the hot blonde in line with him. A slight embarrassment with the ticket lady, but nothing he couldn't brush off with a quick smile.

Then came the scanning. He hated it. Stories about them taking naked pictures of you... It just didn't sit well with him. Not that he was bad looking or anything.

The TSA lady made some announcement about liquids. "- Shoes, please!"

Dean cleared his throat a little. "Um, boots?"

"Are you asking me if a boot is a shoe?"

"No," he laughed nervously.

"Belt, too."

"Ma'am, I'm sorry, I'd rather not-"

"Fine. Opt out! Male assist!"

"Wh-What's a male assist?"

Dean, still confused, made his way forward. A man in a fitted blue uniform approached him. If he squinted, he could read that the badge read "Castiel Novak".

"Sir," Mr. Novak said matter-of-factly, "this way please."

He explained how he was going to do the procedure, and Dean expressed some concerns over being patted-down in public. At that, the man told him to follow him to a private room off to the side.

Dean collected his shoes and nervously followed him into the room. He sat down and waited for the man to return. It was brightly lit and the instructions being read off through the speaker made him feel like he was about to be interrogated or violated or something. Then the lights cut out quickly and the door was opened just enough to where he could just see Mr. Novak's face in the light from outside.

Then a softer, warmer set of lights came on. It felt more pleasant. Mr. Novak pulled down a picture of a painting of the TSA rules being read out earlier.

"So," Mr. Novak began, "you want anything to drink? Wait, don't tell me... Whiskey kind of guy?"

Dean cocked an eyebrow. "Yeah... What does this have to do with being pat down?"

"Just relax..." He gestured for him to say his name as he poured his drink.

"Dean. Dean Winchester, Mr. Novak."

"Cut the formalities. You can call me Cas." Mr. Novak, or rather, Cas handed him the drink.

Dean nervously took a sip. What if it was laced with something? But he didn't want to be rude.

"Where are you headed? Most people don't go to airports just to be pat down."

"Lawrence, Kansas," he muttered.

"Wow, I haven't been there since I was maybe... 16?" Cas laughed. "Why're you going? Family?"

"Yeah. My little brother was doing some business there and I'm heading out to meet him. Hate flying, though. Plane could always crash."

"Listen, the chances of that happening are really small. Our airlines are quite safe." He made his way behind Dean and began touching his shoulders. "You and your little brother close?"

Dean swalled the small lump that formed from the rather intimate contact. "Uh, yeah. About as close as brothers can get. Really small when he was little, y'know? Kids would pick on him," he paused to take another drink, "and our dad, that bastard..."

"Abusive?" He made his way down each of his arms, tracing the muscles and feeling everything under the flannel.

"Yeah," he laughed bitterly. "Used to beat on me a lot. I don't think I ever went to sleep without a bruise or a cut or somethin'."

"Stand, please."

He did, setting the drink on the small table next to him. "He never laid a hand on Sammy, though..."

Cas was now running his hands along his back, doing the same thing he did to his arms. "That must've been rough... I'm going to check your legs now."

That lump was pressing harder on his throat now. The sight of the blue eyed man kneeling before him, running his hands up and down his legs... "I always took the fall so that Sammy never had to. That's what brothers do..."

Cas was now standing, his face mere inches from his. "I'm checking your buttocks now."

Dean nodded. "Yeah, alright."

The feeling shot tingles up his spine. It was a routine check. Just routine. Nothing to get excited over. Besides, he wasn't gay.

Cas ran his hands up his back and across his chest. They splayed across each pec and went down to his stomach, stopping at the waist.

"I need to unbuckle your belt and run two fingers in your waistbaind, alright?"

Dean nodded, the words gone from his mouth. It began to dawn on him. Was Cas flirting with him? And was he enjoying it?

"You know," Cas murmured as he unbuckled Dean's belt, "I've always... Always admired guys who watch out for little sibling." He pulled him closer. "My brother, Jimmy, never really looked out for me. I guess being twins and all, you're either inseparable or desperate to keep a distance." As he finished checking his waistband, he discreetly rebuckled the belt.

"I can understand..." He closed his eyes, letting himself drift in the moment.

Cas closed the space between them. His lips were soft, but different from all of the girls he'd ever kissed. His scruffle scratched his face slightly, but he didn't mind so much. He felt his chest fill slightly, like this was what he was missing his whole life. Then he felt Cas' hand on his chest and the kiss break.

"ALL CLEAR."

The next thing Dean knew, he was stading outside the door of the room he was just in. His eyes glazed over as he replayed those last few minutes in his mind. The blonde girl was still there. Apparently she was waiting for him and gave him a small smile.

He waved back and gave a small smile but only stood in shock as he watched her walk away. A few minutes ago he would've followed her without a second thought, but now he only felt confusion. Did he like guys now? Had he always liked guys? Or was something in that whiskey?

He'd have to figure that out for himself. Now all he had to do was get on that plane and survive the horror trip to Lawrence.


End file.
